Tag: women

Caster Semenya, “The Race To Be Myself”

After years of remaining silent and never truly sharing herself, Caster Semenya was ready to tell her story, and boy did she leave it all on the page. Few memoirs can be called more than autobiographical, however, Caster has managed to tell her story with humour, raw honesty, and an admirable sense of confidence that starts from the first sentence, “I am Mogkadi Caster Semenya. I am one of the greatest track and field athletes to ever run the 800-m distance.” I know of no other athlete who has shared their story so authentically, and honestly before.

Caster’s memoir encompasses her childhood in rural Limpopo, the first moments she knew she would be special at the age of 8, an athletic career that made her one of the most famous athletes of her generation, meeting her beloved wife, and the painful moments she suffered at the hands of the IAAF. “The Race to Be Myself” is conversational, and no rock is left unturned in this emotionally moving and enlightening book.

From an outside perspective, as someone who has only watched Caster run and talk in a few interviews over the years, it’s hard to think of her as someone who is larger than life. However, her personality comes off the page as she synthesizes her past and present, in colourful and often humorous language, ” Seme looked like one of those cartoon characters where the eyes would roll with dollar signs or his face turned into one of those casino slot machines…” (The Race To Be Myself, pg 108)

Writing her story right from the beginning, and including her days climbing trees, hunting with her male cousins, and growing up amongst her sisters puts into perspective where Caster’s confidence stems from. What may sometimes come across as arrogance in her interviews, is actually the product of growing up in an environment where Caster was never othered or treated any differently, her parents brought a girl into this world, and Caster’s unwavering belief in who she is never faltered even as the world told her otherwise, because the people that mattered most to her allowed her to boldly be just Caster.

The book is laugh-out-loud funny at times, especially as Caster describes how she has zero tolerance for bullies and how she often settled those disputes with her fists as a child. This is a belief that she has carried into adulthood, as she faces the IAAF and continues to fight for the human rights of other female athletes who have been the subject of gender testing. But as much as Caster’s light-hearted tone introduces humour to the story, it also breaks one’s heart as she recounts the times when her body and human rights were grossly violated. One of the most profound things about the book is that Caster never stops to pity herself, all that comes through every page is her determination, “I want to run. I want to win. That’s it.”

In just 306 pages, Caster manages to cover a lifetime in vivid detail. No name is left off the page, and no detail is considered too small, she remembers and writes about small moments of kindness as much as the moments of cruelty that she faced at the hands of her fellow athletes. Even as Caster rightfully names and shames some people, the moments that truly mark her as the resilient and powerful person that we know and love, are the quiet moments often away from the track. For example, how she came to create her signature cobra sign that we are so familiar with or the meet-cute with her wife Violet, all are the actual hallmarks of the book. Moments that we have only witnessed through the media, like her two-time Olympic wins, are given arresting detail in the book, so one not only sees Caster as one of the greatest living athletes of all time but also one of the most resilient and iconic women that have ever lived.

This is a book you inhale, simply because it is that gripping. Written in simple but clear language, Caster pours out her life and also takes the time to reflect on some of the moments that she lived through. There are many take-aways from the book, mostly, Caster’s absolute determination and discipline, and some the sheer cruelty and eugenics that still govern the athletics world. This is perhaps one of the most important memoirs to come out of South Africa, since President Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom”.

14 November 2023
Cathrin Schulz – a poetic approach to image-making
1. photography. a merge. inevitable, it feel to me.
These words are the opening of photographer Cathrin Schulz‘s bio on her website. They speak to her approach to image making, pointing to the idea that her camera has become part of her. Schulz’s description of her relationship with the camera reads as a kind of spiritual connection, as if the first time she pressed the shutter-release button was a moment of serendipity, an invitation from the universe to find her passion. The poetic introduction to her work from her bio is continued through the titles of her works and the layout of her site.

The text that accompanies each series of images reveals sensibilities that see the work come full circle when presented to the viewer.

Her series UN[DOMESTICATED] sees women photographed with wild animals as a visual signal to a kind of surrendering and undoing of the idea that women need to be “tamed”. The different animals come across as representations of their spirits, and the closeness between the women and the animals points to the idea that they are intimately engaged with their spirits.

‘UN[DOMESTICATED]’
my motivation is to share my vision with the intention to leave the viewer changed. touched. intrigued. provoked. curious.

Shadows, blurs and capturing intense gazes from the people she photographs directly articulates her motivation. One is pulled in, wanting to find out the story being told through the images. The delicacy and sensitivity with which her work comes together is evident in the balance between light and dark, creating mystery and evoking a sense of nostalgia all at once. It is as if each image is a paused moment from a romantic movie or a snippet of a dream that you remember in the middle of the day. The series 8 FT [UNDER] alludes to this evocation.

To check out more of Schulz’s work visit her website.

‘8 FT [UNDER]’
‘UN[DOMESTICATED]’
‘8 FT [UNDER]’

‘CRYING WOLVES’

‘ANXIETY TO BREATHE’

‘ANXIETY TO BREATHE’
13 June 2018
Photographer and Journalist Rahima Gambo’s ‘Education is Forbidden’ makes a social commentary on the post-colonial education system in north-eastern Nigeria

Rahima Gambo studied Development at the University of Manchester and thereafter completed a Masters in Gender and Social Policy at the London School of Economics. This was followed with her Masters in Journalism at Columbia Graduate School in 2014. Her interdisciplinary practice looks at Nigerian identity, gender, socio-political issues and history. Her series Education Is Forbidden makes use of photography, illustration, text and film to articulate a troubling narrative that remains without end.

With her photo essay, Education is Forbidden, the photographer and journalist challenges the Boko Haram insurrection, the condition of the post-colonial education system in north-eastern Nigeria as well as the status of women in society. Showcased as a part of the curated projects at ART X Lagos art fair, it has been in development since 2015.

The project has been built on and grown due to support given by the International Women’s Media Foundation, propelled forward by “a curiosity to understand what it means to be a student on the front lines.” Rahima, who is from the region and currently residing in Abuja, travelled to schools and universities in various states to meet activists, pupils and teachers. This acted as an entry point for her documentation of the lasting trauma and infrastructural deterioration, beginning decades before and is currently destabilised by conflict.

To create this body of work Rahima’s approach was to show girls from a stylised, prolific point of view. Employing traditional portraiture techniques, the photographer aimed to focus on points of familiarity and visual signifiers that remind her audience of how carefree school days should be. These signifiers include a girl blowing a bubble with chewing gum and other girls calmly look into her lens. The works take a frontal approach created collaboratively with the girls that she photographed.

Rahima tells these girls’ stories as their youth is poisoned by these events of trauma. It is important to note that she does not intend to label them by these circumstances or define them as victims. “The project is not based on trauma because you can find that in any condition, no matter how comfortable…” she expresses in an interview with Nataal. Her series has the twofold effect of being both a visual documentation and captured moments of collective memory. Her work is then a visual narrative speaking of the cruelties of conflict and its effect on the educational framework of the region.

29 May 2018
Artist Florine Demosthene on the Black Heroine

“Would you be willing to suspend all your preconceived notions of what a heroine is supposed to be?”

This question was directed at Nigerian writer Ayodeji Rotinwa by artist Florine Demosthene. The Haitian-American artist is exhibiting her new show titled “The Stories I Tell Myself” at Gallery 1957 in Accra. This exhibition is comprised of work created during her four month residency with the gallery.

Demosthene’s painted and collaged black heroine projects a strong yet calming presence, possessing contemplative poses with a divine gaze. She appears to be floating, while still enjoying a full form.

Florine Demosthene, ‘Untitled Wound #1’, 2018

Demosthene points to the fact the black heroine is nothing new. Heroines with mythological characteristics, goddesses, all-women armies and warriors have occupied real life and the imaginaries of cultures throughout past and present history. Demosthene’s work simply channels the spirit and energy of women past, present and future who have the ability to protect, bring life and divine the future. Her work speaks to the necessity of presenting narratives of black heroines as valuable, valid and true in and of themselves, detached from the visual and discursive constructions that relate them to men and whiteness.

This gesture present in the execution of her concept is powerful in that it encourages viewers to question who they are when prejudices and outside projections absorbed by their skin and methods of identity construction are removed. Demosthene’s heroine suggests that perfection is not heroic, and that the necessity of removal and breaking down for a more self appreciating and celebratory being is a kind of power too.

Florine Demosthene, ‘Untitled Wound #2’, 2018

11 April 2018
Happiness is a Four-letter word’s box office success shows us that South Africans want to watch their own stories

Something big is happening in the popular culture today. There is the demand and support for woman in the lead. Though much of Hollywood has been pushing for such content with inclusion of speaking woman-parts in male dominated franchises such as super hero films and series, we are slowly seeing the re-emergence of black woman as the starring characters.

With the popularity of shows such as Scandal, “How” to “Get” “Away” with “murder” and What’s wrong with Mary Jane we are seeing black woman taking the plot forward, no longer relegated to the role of domestic worker, slave or sassy best friend.

The success of such shows not only shows that there is such a demand in popular Western entertainment for the stories of black woman but also how such genres are actually profitable to the male dominated broadcast companies.

Happiness is a Four-letter word shows how this is also becoming true for the South African film Market. The film, based on the successful novel of the same name by Nozizwe Jele, follows the life of three friends, Nandi (Mmabatho Montsho), Zaza (Khanyi Mbau) and Princess (Renate Stuurman) as they deal with careers, relationships, families and spa treatments. These are woman well established in their careers. Each has their own relationship complications combined with other pressures, these woman show that it’s hard having it all.

Though much of the film is heavily stylized there seems a desperate urgency, on the part of the creators, to point out how successful and fashionable these ladies truly are. Yet its the soft narration and sharp banter that shows how this film, that doesn’t take itself to seriously, goads the audience to be apart of these woman’s lives.

The film represents the need to tell the other side of black lives, a side that is often heavily criticized as being materialistic and even superficial. We are facing a time where the ideals of black people must also be represented and are seeing the emergence of the successful black woman with her finances in order. She has the house, the car and a bevy of suitors to choose. Such representations of material security shows a greater need to understand what it is that South Africans aspire to but also what they seek to escape towards.

We are seeing Black woman as in their ideal, fabulous and powerful, yet still having to deal with the complexity that comes with living in the modern age. As we see these woman in their various professional fields we are given the opportunity to discuss what it is that black lives are actually fighting for. Is it enough to just exercise our power as woman, to choose the man we want or should we also be looking at the impact of those very desires to the people around us.

Happiness is a Four-letter word makes us ask what it means to have agency as black woman. The film shows us that material gains are not enough when it comes to matters of the heart and friendship. It forces us to deal with the further complexities that come with being woman of the modern age juggling career and intimacy, showing us that the two are not often so easy to keep separate.

This is a film for those who want to loose themselves in the ideal but also makes us cognisant of what we want for ourselves as black people and black woman. Here the feminist slogan of the personal becoming the political come into play as we are forced to deal with the every day “sticky” situations of asserting our agency as black woman. In doing we also acknowledge that we cannot always be the strong ones and that what is most needed is the love and support from the bonds that we create for ourselves.

In the film Princes later gives her best advice to Nandi, “You figure it out….and then you fight for it”. We have to deal with the complexities of what it means to be a black, woman and feminine. These are the very questions that will help us decide what is it that we are exactly striving for as Black South Africans.

8 March 2016